Before the New Year, Willow’s gallery opened.

The store covered 9,000 square feet and cost 20 million in renovations. Everywhere one looked, one could see the scent of money. From day one, it became the go–to spot for high society to unt their status.

Buying art had be the new trend.

Some up–anding artists saw their paintings skyrocket in value after being disyed at Willow’s gallery. Fortunately, she had signed long -term contracts with them.

Of course, Willow had her way of managing people. If anyone got too greedy, she wouldn’t work with them again.

At noon, the gallery closed for two hours.

After an inventory check, 32 paintings had been sold, excluding pending contracts. This result had already exceeded expectations.

To celebrate, Willow popped open a bottle of champagne with her b12 /bemployees.

Annie was the happiest of all. She had followed Willow to start fresh on her own, and it turned out to be the right move.

Willow was paying her 800 thousand dors a year, a full 20% more than before. Annie couldn’t be more satisfied.

Willow swirled her ss lightly, her smile calm. “This is just the beginning. One day, we’ll have our own auction house, nurturing world–ss artists that collectors all over the world will chase after and willing to pay top dor for.”

Annie immediately chimed in with a few ttering words.

Willow set down her ss. “There are 12 mary gifts over there, each with 20 thousand inside. Consider it a bonus for this month’s hard work.”

Instantly, a chorus of voices rang out in unison, “Thank you, Ms. Harper!”

Willow smiled. “We’re running a legitimate business hereb, /bnot a nightclub. Get some rest now and stay sharp for the afternoon.”

She was generous with her employees, willing to share the profits, and in return, they respected her.

…

Later, Willow rested in her private office.

Annie came in, struggling under a massive pile of boxes, using all her strength. Even her pencil skirt nearly tore from the effort.

Willow frowned. “What is all this? Why is it so heavy?”

Annie dumped the boxes onto the desk and pped the dust off her hands. “These are congrattory gifts for you, Ms. Harper. Take your time opening them.

Willow nodded.

Since she had nothing else to dob, /bshe started unboxing and keeping a record. These were favors she would eventually have to return. She even prepared a small notebook to keep track of them.

“Mrs. Chapman–a pair bof /bsolid gold lion paperweights. Jeffrey–an authentic Victorian–era painting. Dominic–a statue of Mother Mary holding a child.”

Willow stared at thest one, speechless.

At the same time, she felt guilty toward the old man. Not only bwas /bshe determined to divorce Julianb, /bbut she also could never have children… Dominic was bound to be disappointed.

The next gift was from Julian. It was the key to Grandview Manor.

A deep, antique bronze key was solemnly ced on a bed of raffia.

Willow immediately understood what it meant. It was nothing more than a plea for forgiveness. It was an invitation toe home and remain as Mrs. Ziegler.

But Willow knew she could never do it.

b+25 /bbBonus /b

If this had been in the bpast/b, she might have yed along. But after what happened with her grandmotherb, /bshe felt nothing but overwhelming disgust for him that she couldn’t bear the thought of being intimate with him again.

Willow closed the box, fully intending to send it back to Julian.

Just then, amotion erupted outside. She heard a woman crying.

Setting everything down, she quickly stepped out.

The scene outside was a mess.

In the dead of winter, Catherine was wearing nothing but a thin dress, her eyes filled with tears, lookingpletely unhinged. She was sobbing Julian’s name, and the moment she saw Willow, she went berserk.

“Where’s Julian? Why won’t he see me? Willow, did you hide him?”